


When you give a consulting detective a powerful sedative

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Doctor John Watson, Domestic Fluff, Drugged Sherlock, Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia, Fluff and Crack, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John drags a drugged up Sherlock home from The Woman's house and ditches his date to take care of him.</p>
<p>Ridiculous romANTICS ensue. Pun quite blatantly intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When you give a consulting detective a powerful sedative

**Author's Note:**

> I do NOT own BBC's Sherlock or any of its characters.
> 
> kind of a cute, short, little cracky ficlet inspired by my sick husband.

"John! John!" the loopy detective shouts from his bedroom. When did he get there? How? The last thing he remembers is the floor and the sharp sting of a riding crop against his face, he touches the welt on his cheek and frowns. "JAWWWN!" he slurs again making an attempt to hoist his heavy form from the mattress. He pushes hard with his elbows and falls back but with all of his determination he pushes hard enough to put him up right. He's still top heavy and with his victory short-lived he plummets face forward toward the floor. His lids squeeze shut as he braces for impact but is met with two burly arms locking their forearms with his. 

"No no no. Back to bed" the familiar voice chides from above him. In a stomach churning instant he is pushed back onto the bed on his side. Sherlock groans in defeat and his eyes roll back as he tries to balance the sickly dizzying sensation in his head. His mental faculties are alarmingly slowed as are his reactions. As Sherlock's face sinks into the pillow he sighs. "I'll be in the other room if you need me," John tells him.

"I'll be fine. Why would I need you?" Sherlock moans with a stupid grin on his face.

"Exactly," the doctor retorts with a sympathetic smile as he turns to exit the room.

Desperation takes hold and with a whimper and the abrupt raise of his hand Sherlock stops the doctor dead in his tracks. "Noooo," he whines. "John don't go. Stay here. C'mere. Sit down." He pats the bed with his dead-weight of an arm before lazily snapping it back to his side. John nods and obliges. As soon as Sherlock feels the weight of his blogger dip into the mattress he whispers almost too softly for John to hear, "I'm dyyyying."

John rolls his eyes. "You're not dying Sherlock. You were just slipped a sedative that's all. You'll be fine with some rest," he states matter-of-factly. The blond is secretly finding joy in the Detective's pitiful mutterings. It's a pleasant change from his rapid-fire condescending ramblings. Luckily Sherlock cannot see him smiling.

"Nooo. Jawwn. You have to listen to meeee. I'm blind and I'm dying!" the detective protests. Heavy hands pull Sherlock onto his back.

"You're not blind Sherlock. Your eyes are closed!" John giggles pulling at Sherlock's eyelids. Sherlock looks up at him with a thoroughly confused expression. It's an expression that John has only ever seen Sherlock adorn when approached with social norms that would fail to puzzle most anyone else. John revels in its rarity.

"Check me out Doctor Watson," Sherlock whines biting his lip. It really does take a moment for John to understand the innocuousness of this statement because the flush that crosses the detective's face and his near whisper of a command is just plain sinful. It's as though a child had just quoted a raunchy line from your favorite pornography and John doesn't know what to do with the data that has hit him, until it becomes clear that like that child Sherlock had not intended to express his sexuality through the action. For this, John stares at Sherlock for a very awkward, very silent, 30 seconds that John will forever remember as those-thirty-seconds-god-was-testing-me. 

John clears his throat as if to pass off those thirty seconds of eye-fucking and contemplation off as a dry throat. "Um sure Sherlock." John takes Sherlock's chin gently between his thumb and index as he examines his face. He traces his hand up to the welt on the detective's cheek. "She fucked you up a bit I see," the doctor smiles gently stroking the worried skin.

"But she didn't fuck me!" Sherlock announces embarrassingly loudly. John frowns a bit, knitting his eyes together in focus on the detective's weary eyes. Sherlock nearly mirrors John's expression but with a more noticeable pout before lazily wrapping his arms around the doctor's neck. "I'm saving that for somebody special Jawn," he smiles tilting his head just so. John opens his mouth to speak but Sherlock continues. "No Jawn, I've never. Nobody's ever loved me before and I don't wanna be with anybody that doesn't love me." He shakes his head to emphasize his aversion to the thought. 

"Oh. Okay then," the only response that stands to reason in John's mind.

Sherlock frowns. "Lie down John," he says in a stern tone that almost convinces John that he's sobered up if not for the fit of giggles that follows. John lays down with Sherlock's arms still wrapped around his neck. The detective looks him thoughtfully in the eye before letting the doctor go and pulling himself down and into John's chest where he finally finds comfort. Lost in the silliness of it all John wraps an arm around Sherlock's shoulder without any protest from his heterosexuality. "Mmm. Have you ever loved anybody John?" Sherlock asks. In his right mind Sherlock would know the answer to this question but right now he is as slow as you and I if not slower.

"Yes. I have. Have you?" John asks curiously. It may be his only chance to pick at the most intimate parts of Sherlock's clever brain.

"Yeah. Well, I thought I loved Victor Trevor. I met him in uni. Didn't love me though." Sherlock groaned frowning into John's sternum.

"Did you ever love again?" John risks another personal question.

"Hmm? Yes. 'Course I did," Sherlock answered with a yawn, tightening his grip on John's shirt. 

John is clever. It's one of the many reasons that Sherlock has chosen John as a friend and as a colleague. John is certainly not at the same level as Sherlock but he is certainly observant. Having observed the sudden change of grip on his shirt in connection to Sherlock's answer he makes a decision that will alter their standing relationship. John chooses to hold Sherlock's chin in his hand and pull that detective's eyes up to his so that he may not look away. "Sherlock, do you love me?" he asks voice calm, heart racing. 

"I love you John," Sherlock's voice parrots John's tone back to him without the questioning inflection. He shimmies up John's body so that their eyes are level. 

John rests his forehead against Sherlock's and smiles. There are no protests from the audience like there had been the instant that John had finally managed to admit it to himself. He took the silence from his identity issues as a blessing. "I love you Sherlock," he breathes with relief. He cups Sherlock's face in his hands and kisses him tenderly on the lips and the detective's eyes flutter shut. 

"So"

"Good"

"To"

"Be"

"Loved." Sherlock mutters between soft but needy kisses. Together their lips move smoothly over one another, fitting like destiny and feeling like sparks. Sherlock's arms snake around John's torso and pull him closer, desperate for purchase, anything to prove that this isn't a fever dream. His mouth opens and John's tongue brushes his own, not intrusively, but just lightly enough that it's welcome and wonderful. He closes his lips around Sherlock's nipping the bottom one softly with his teeth. Sherlock smiles and kisses John sweetly, earnestly, before pulling away. "No means nooo," he hums poking the tip of John's nose with his finger. He kisses John once more before falling asleep with his blogger holding him tight.


End file.
